For All of Eternity
by Thekoryu
Summary: Oneshot. Death Fic. Oishi didn’t feel the rain anymore….He only stood, staring at the freshly turned soil and imagined the beautiful face buried beneath it…It didn’t seem fair, some how, that someone who had brought so much joy into his life would also be


Title: For All of Eternity

Author: Koryu

Rating: PG

Warnings: Death, Shounan-ai, Fluff...I guess, like 5 words of it…

Summary: Oneshot. Death Fic. _Oishi didn't feel the rain anymore….He only stood, staring at the freshly turned soil and imagined the beautiful face buried beneath it…. It didn't seem fair, some how, that someone who had brought so much joy into his life would also be the one to take it out'. _

Disclaimier: I do not own Prince of Tennis….not that anyone would want me to, after what I've done to it…T T

A/N: sigh I throw myself at the mercy of all fangirls. This fic is pure evil and I know it. I consider it the result of an unspoken challenge by hennokappa. I made her write fluff, so I must write death. Evil death….I feel so ashamed….:hides face:

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The funeral was beautiful. The day was bright and sunny with a fragrant spring breeze wafting through the open church windows. Sunlight streamed in through those same windows, reflecting off the glistening multitudes of flowers and danced with the swirling dust mites they illuminated.

It was as if nature could sense the heaviness of the occasion and was trying her best to brighten the long faces of the funeral attendants. In some cases, she succeeded, and as the cool wind caressed their cheeks a small, sad, smile would appear, and peace could be felt in their hearts. They thought they could feel the sprit of the departed there with them, and that it was going to be okay; everything was going to be okay. Life could, and would, go on and everything would be fine, somehow.

At the back of the church, hidden from the suns warming rays, stood Oishi Syuichiroh. He watched the other guests file in and take their seats. He saw the smiles and heard the peaceful sighs. Each time his heart wretched a little tighter; each time another piece of his soul was ripped away. The murmured assurances of new life mocked him. . "_Life?", _Oishi thought, "_there is no more life. All my life, all my love of life, all my will to live, lies right there DEAD, in that casket. There no longer is life"_

The service was about to begin and Oishi allowed himself to be lead down the aisle, towards the front, to were the rest of his teammates where seated. He sat down between Tezuka and Fuji, and either didn't notice or didn't acknowledge the worried looks cast in his direction.

They had not known exactly what to expect from Oishi. Tears, they were sure, possiblely even mild hysterics, but this,this completely impassive, silent, almost _cold _behavior, had them all confused and extremely worried. It was so unlike the Oishi they knew, so horrendously out of character, that it caught them off guard, unable to react. So instead they just sat there, helplessly looking at one another, wanting to offer their condolences but unable to find the right words.

By then the minister has begun to speak and each member of the congregation turned their attention upon the deep, soothing, voice. He opened the service with the common themes of all funerals. He talked of the travesty of young life cut down before its time, and how it was always better to dwell on the good memories then to focus on the sadness… etcetera, etcetera. The words sounded hollow in Oishi's ears, like they were being spoken from far away and he barely heard them.

When the minister had finished Oishi scarcely felt Tezuka stand up beside him, place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and move to take the ministers place. He was the first of a long line of people who had asked, or been asked, to say a few words at the funeral. As he began to speak, his tone curt and stately as ever, those who knew him well could hear the sadness that laced his voice and saw the tightness around his eyes that betrayed the truth depth of the emotions he was feeling. It moved them deeply to know that even their captain felt this lose so deeply.

When he was finished he relinquished the pulpit to Eiji's mother and father. They rose from their seats and slowly walked up the stage steps. Eiji's mother, leaning heavily on her husband, greeted Tezuka with a small kiss on the cheek and murmured her thanks. She then turned towards the rest of the audience, eyes shining with unshed tears, telling them how grateful she was that they had come and how much she knew it would mean to her son that they were here. After a short pause and a few deep breaths, both parents turned their gaze upon the dark mahogany casket in front of them. They began to address their precious baby boy that lay inside directly, telling him their tearful goodbyes through stifled sobs and shuddered breathes. Near the end, Eiji's mother finally collapsed into her husband's arms, burying her face in his shoulder and cried out with the anguish only a mother who has lost a child could express. Quickly giving his final farewell, Eiji's father motioned for whoever was next to take their place and he lead his grieving wife back to their seats.

Over the next hour or so, dozens of people approached that stage, stood behind the pulpit and paid their respects to Kikumaru Eiji. His brothers and sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins; everyone came to say goodbye. Some could barely speak for the tears that stole their voice; others just fondly gazed at the casket before them and reminisced about times long past. After his family had finished, each of the Seigaku regulars took their turns. Inui and Kaidoh went first, and then Momo and Ryoma. Next was Taka, and lastly Fuji. Who, after finishing, looked expectantly in Oishi's direction.

But the other man hadn't even moved. He still sat there, glazed eyes locked on the casket in front. He didn't blink; it didn't even look like he breathed. Oishi just sat there, letting the words wash over him, never letting them reach him. Tezuka leaned over and, nudging Oishi slightly, told him that it was his turn to speak. After a few moments of painful silence, Tezuka sighed, crossed his arms, and shook his head slightly, motioning for Fuji to come and sit down.

Seeing that everyone who wanted to speak had spoken, the minister once again took his place behind the pulpit and continued on with the service. He announced that now it was time for the burial and asked the six casket bearers to come forward. Oishi stood, mechanically, with the rest of the congregation as the six men lifted the casket and proceededthrough the side door to the graveyard out back. They moved slowly, keeping in time with the low, heavy, brass music, and everyone followed them silently.

The walk was not a long one, just a handful of yards really, yet the path stretched before them seemed interminable. Each step seemed heavier then the last, until it was all that they could do to shuffle slowly along. Each was wrapped in their own grief, so none took notice of the tears that had begun to stream down Oishi's face.

The procession came to a sudden stop and the last forlorn notes were ripped away by the breeze that had once been so calming. People fanned out around the freshly dug grave and watched as the casket bearers attached the ropes and lowered it down. The minister began his prayer, his voice low and thick with emotion.

Their task completed, the six men stepped back, blending into the crowed and made way for two shovel-bearing mean in dirty coveralls. Hefting the handles in their hands they plunged the blades deep into the pile of dirt beside the hole and began pouring it on top of the casket. It was those dull scraps and thuds that finally awoke Oishi.

The finality of the situation suddenly crashed in on him and something deep inside snapped. The protective walls that he had hastily built in the last few weeks crashed pitifully into the deluge of reality that had broken free, sweeping his mind and igniting his senses. He physically slumped forward, shoulders droping and knees hitting the cold grass. With no words to describe the terrible monster of pain and sadness that had manifested in his chest, all Oishi could do was scream. And as the ugly, wet, earth slowly covered his lover forever; he realized that there would be no more...

No more sweet kisses. No more warm embraces. No more soft caresses. No more tender touches. No more brilliant smiles. No more infectious laughter. No more stolen moments between classes. No more sunset promises. No more moonlit strolls. No more midnight talks. No more Eiji...

_No more..._

_No more..._

No more tennis. No more doubles. No more Golden Pair. No more late night practices. No more amazing acrobatics. No more matches won. No more 'Nya's. No more 'Hoi's. No more silly cat noises. No more 'I love you's. No more Eiji...

_No more..._

_No more..._

No more soft red hair. No more depthless, dark eyes. No more losing himself in those eyes. No more kisses on the nose. No more soft lips. No more happiness. No more love. No more life. No more Eiji...

_No more..._

_No more..._

**NOT EVER AGAIN...**

Oishi was on his feet again and stumbled towards the half filled grave as if to throw himself in, as well. Strong, capable hands grabbed him before he hadgone far and held him tightly as he struggled to break free. He vaguely heard a firm, low voice telling him to calm down and breathe. Oishi found that he couldn't breathe, though, and as the edges of his vision grew dim and he let himself slip into darkness, Tezuka hardly heard him whisper, "Goodbye, Eiji...I love you."

Falling to his knees with the unconscious Oishi in his arms, the Captains heart broke, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Tezuka Kunimitsu cried.

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The day after the funeral, it rained; a slow depressing, downpour that sapped the happiness out of everyone. It left them feeling lethargic and downtrodden, unwilling to even get out of bed that morning, much less perform any other necessary tasks of daily life. It was for this reason, when Oishi stepped outside of his home, that the streets where completely deserted.

His shoes made watery slaps on the wet pavement as he made the short trip from his front door to the nearby graveyard. He had spent the whole morning debating whether or not to go; pacing back and forth, putting his coat on and then taking it off. He didn't want to go; he knew that the pain would be almost unbearable. Somehow, though, he just couldn't stay away.

Lost in thought, Oishi was surprised to find that he had arrived at his destination. He stopped suddenly, where pavement met grass, and raised a trembling hand to the iron handle. Steeling his resolve, he grasped the knob, swung open the gate, and stepped inside.

Eiji's grave was at the back of the graveyard and the walk seemed to be the longest Oishi had ever taken. His stride was solid at first, but soon it began to falter and his steps became hesitant; like his subconscious was reeling back in horror, unwilling to go farther. Forcing himself to keep walking, Oishi finally reached the grave.

The rain began to fall harder. It was almost as if the clouds felt sympathy for the young man below. Oishi didn't feel the rain anymore, though. He paid no attention to it as it slowly soaked through each layer of his clothing and as it ran down his face and neck. He only stood, staring at the freshly turned soil and imagined the beautiful face buried beneath it. It tore at Oishi heart to think of Eiji, so vibrant and full of life, forever stilled in the rigors of death. It didn't seem fair, some how, that someone who had brought so much joy into his life would also be the one to take it out.

Oishi stood in front of that stone marker for a very long time. Occasionally, his parents and other friends stopped by, pleading with him to come home. He couldn't stay out here in this weather, they said, and that he could come back tomorrow, perhaps when it wasn't raining. Oishi politely refused their offers, saying that he would come home soon. He only needed a few more moments, then he'd come home. Only a few more minutes….

Some where around 12am Oishi's mother convinced his father to forcefully take their son back home. Exhausted, from hunger and the emotional strain, Oishi put up only a mild protest and his anxious parents where able to take him back home. Immediately they took off his soaked clothing, replaced them with pajamas, and put him into bed.

By the next morning Oishi was shivering uncontrollably and his skin felt like fire. Right away the doctor was called and Oishi was rushed to the hospital. The doctors did all they could to stop the infection, but his condition steadily worsened and it soon became obvious that all they could do was try and make him as comfortable as possible.

Three weeks later Oishi Syuichiroh died.

Gathered around his bed, the other regulars felt strange to be in this same situation a mere month after they had watched another of their close friends slowly slip away. The familiarity of having gone through it all before didn't help to lessen the pain, however, and as the machines that kept Oishi alive where switched off, their incessant beeps quickening and then converging into one, they once again felt their hearts break and the tears freely flow.

Fuji stifled a sob and buried his face into Tezuka's shoulder, who encircled his arm around the others shoulders, gently stoking the light brown hair with his free hand, comfortingly. Tezuka himself simply looked down and his vice-captain sadly, wondering how is had all come to this.

A broken heart is a fatal thing and a love that transcends death will fight with all that it possesses to reunite itself with the object of that love. A small, sad smile played at Tezuka's lips and he whispered softly , "_Be happy, Oishi….Eiji. For all of eternity, be happy." _

Finished: August 18, 2005 12:47 AM


End file.
